


Taking Turns

by MoftissslilWriter



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Eventual Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoftissslilWriter/pseuds/MoftissslilWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John brought a girl home to have some fun with on Christmas Eve. How will Sherlock take to finding them together in the living room?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Turns

     It ‘twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring- except for what sounded like one John Watson and a woman climbing up to the flat. Sherlock had been contented spending his night in his room, catching up on some reading, but his concentration was destroyed but the raucous created by John and his date. Sherlock would have been happy enough to return to his reading, but he noticed that among the noises made out in the rest of the flat, the sound of people climbing the stairs up to John’s bedroom was absent among them. Surely, John should have to know that Sherlock was home, and therefore realize the living room was hardly the appropriate location for a romantic tryst. Usually, John took care to try to keep his dates out of their shared living quarters, for fear of the women finding something disturbing. A woman in the living room was very…curious. Naturally, Sherlock indulged his curiosity by quietly making his way through to the kitchen. Then, rather startled by what he found he stopped dead in his tracks, partially hidden among the shadows of the kitchen.

     One could hardly describe the scene unfolding as “romantic.” It was sexual. It was the prelude to fucking, specifically, and Sherlock could feel the tension in the room from where he stood. The entirety of it was nauseating, and yet somehow Sherlock couldn’t look away. John was seated in his chair, legs splayed. The woman, blood red lips, disgustingly revealing dress, and all, was on her hands and knees in front of John, just out of his reach.

“Come.” growled the doctor, voice thick, and his eyes set predatorily on the woman.

     The woman obeyed, swaying as she crawled forward, trying to be teasing or coy, or something just as sickening. Sherlock tried to restrain himself from gagging as the woman nuzzled the inside of John’s thigh, moaned just a little, and smiled up at John. _‘How can John find this arousing?’_ Sherlock wondered, yet found himself still watching, somewhat beguiled by the sight before him. The lights of the Christmas decorations made sure everything was almost sensually lit.

John caressed the woman’s cheek: “What would you like, pet?”

The “Pet” sat back on her heels, looked up at John and moved her fingers lightly over John’s thighs and up over his cock.

John groaned, low and primal, before replying, “Are you sure, pet? Are your sure your pretty, little pussy can take that, hmm?”

     Sherlock almost gasped at John’s crass language. This was nothing Sherlock had ever deduced about his flatmate, simply because he had never given it much thought. That is, until now. Now, Sherlock’s mind was whirling with thoughts of exactly what John Watson was like in bed. Now, he found himself slowly gaining the urge to find out for himself.

“Yes, Sir…” came Pet’s very girlish, very breathy response.

“Very well, then…”

     What followed was the clattering of a belt, and the shuffling of fabric. By this, Sherlock was able to deduce that John was now exposed and hard for this woman. Sherlock suddenly found himself unable to leave, unable to swallow, unable to breathe, and unable to stop wanting to be in the Pet’s place.

     The Pet leaned forward, and though his view was obstructed, Sherlock knew exactly where the Pet’s mouth as going. John groaned softly. For Sherlock, the sound of John Watson getting his cock sucked was, surprisingly, the hottest thing he’d ever heard. It also inspired what Sherlock could only describe as feelings of jealousy, given he wasn’t the one making John make those noises. Jealousy is a terribly ugly thing, and it made Sherlock immediately start brainstorming ideas as to how to make this awful woman leave the flat as soon as possible. The answer came quickly, and Sherlock implemented the plan before he lost his nerve:

“John!” he bellowed excitedly, “There’s a case, and it’s a 7 at least!”

     Sherlock moved out of the shadows as if he has just strolled out from his room, causing a great deal of alarm for both John and the Pet. John scrambled to cover himself, exclaiming, “Jesus, Sherlock!” Sherlock swept over to the door, gesturing for the Pet to leave. The woman readjusted her dress and stood, looking to John for what to do. John did not stop her, or beg her not to go, but instead he simply sighed as the Pet gathered her things in an awkward hurried shuffle before leaving. Sherlock moved to grab his coat, hoping he would come up with a way to follow through on his lie once they got outside. Before he could grab his scarf, however, John spoke.

“Stop it now.” It was almost as if the needle had slipped off the record.

Sherlock didn’t turn around as he asked, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. I wouldn’t have survived the amount of military service that I did if I couldn’t sense someone not five feet from me, even if they were behind me.”

“What…”

“Don’t play this game with me, Sherlock.”

     What followed was one of the tensest silences in all of history. Sherlock was trying desperately to try to deduce what punishment John would inflict, but before he could gather an answer, John moved. John stood and closed the space between them in a second, quite nearly literally sweeping Sherlock off his feet as he leant up and kissed the taller man. Shock was obviously Sherlock’s first reaction, and it was one hell of a reaction to try to fight. John stopped and looked at Sherlock, “Come on, kiss me like you mean it.”

     There was a chuckle in his words, a familiarity, something to remind Sherlock that this was John, his John. John moved to kiss Sherlock again. Something about how warm and right it felt allowed him to melt into John’s touch, finally moving his lips. Their touch communicated everything from a nervous adoration to an undaunting desire for one another. Their hands pulled them closer together, and they kissed like they didn’t ever need to come up for air. Even though every part of Sherlock was enjoying John’s lips where they were, broke the kiss because he felt he needed to clarify with John what had occurred:

“Does this mean you aren’t, in fact, angry with me?”

“Is this something people tend to do when they’re angry with you?”

“No, not usually, but I find it’s best to clarify….”

“No, you sod. Just…don’t do it again, yeah?”

Sherlock had never looked so serious as he responded, “Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything for nearly a year, but I figured I would have a go at it, since it's Christmas and all. I know it's just a drabble, but it's something sweet for the holidays. Given a prompt, I will write, so here we are. Let me know if it's any good, or if you have any ideas or prompts for me. 
> 
> Lots of Love, Merry Christmas, and Have a lovely Boxing Day,  
> -Mxxx


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